


Hail, Hail, The Gang's All Here

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Sweet suffering Jesus...do I have to?  This is a half-assed response to a challenge CathyLex posted to ATXC, to wit:  "I want someone to write me some humor involving a Consortium gift exchange, and I want a Spender in flannel pajamas involved.  Don't ask me why.  It's just this image I have running through my head...."





	Hail, Hail, The Gang's All Here

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here! by Brandon D. Ray

Forwarding this gem from Brandon Ray, who does not otherwise write slash.

TITLE: Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here! (1/1)  
AUTHOR: Brandon D. Ray  
EMAIL ADDRESS:   
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere and everywhere, so long as my name stays on it and no money changes hands.  
FEEDBACK: Oh, hell yes....  
Ephemeral: *FEEDBACK*   
SPOILER WARNING: Oh, geez...none, I think. I hope. Please, CC...don't even THINK about it....  
RATING: NC-17  
CONTENT WARNING: PARODY. How do I violate your sensibilities? Let me count the ways.... Slash, both m/m and f/f. BDSM. Incest. Hetsex. Voyeurism. Twosomes. Threesomes. Foursomes. Fivesomes. Zucchini, and also a turkey carcass. And dear god help me....a fruitcake.  
CLASSIFICATION: SRHA  
SUMMARY: Sweet suffering Jesus...do I have to? This is a half-assed response to a challenge CathyLex posted to ATXC, to wit: "I want someone to write me some humor involving a Consortium gift exchange, and I want a Spender in flannel pajamas involved. Don't ask me why. It's just this image I have running through my head...."  
I may never be able to show my face in ATXC again, and it's all her fault.  
DISCLAIMER: Nope, I do not own these characters or situations. If I were THAT smart, I would be rich.

* * *

Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here!  
by Brandon D. Ray

I was about to go upstairs when there was a knock on the door.

For just a moment I considered ignoring it, but in this business you never know when it might be important. So with a sigh of resignation I headed for the door, my flannel nightie swirling around me as I went.

There was no one there. I stepped out on the stoop in puzzlement (and also in my nightie), and looked up and down the street. Still no one. I was about to go back inside when I happened to glance down and spied a dark lump lying at my feet.

My immediate instinct was to run -- but what the hell. It was Christmas Eve, and nobody would do something nasty to anyone on this most holy day of the year. I squatted down to examine the object.

It was a fruitcake. What the fuck?

Which reminded me of the man waiting upstairs for me. I grabbed the fruitcake and went back inside and ran up the stairs, hoping he hadn't started without me. The flannel nightie swishing against my thighs was incredibly stimulating. I trotted rapidly to the end of the hallway and pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"What kept you, Jeff?" he said, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bedside table and then reaching for another.

I dropped the fruitcake on the floor and slipped into bed, reaching for his cock. "Sorry, Dad," I said. "There was someone at the door."

The fruitcake could wait.

# # #

I was about to head upstairs when there was a knock on the door. With a curse of annoyance I yanked it open and looked outside.

Nobody was there. I was about to go back inside, since it was awfully damned cold to be out dressed the way I was, when I spotted a dark lump sitting on the top step. Automatically, I bent down and retrieved it.

A flannel nightie? Wrapped around a....fruitcake? I took a delicate sniff at the nightie; it smelled like Spender.

What the fuck?

Which reminded me of the man waiting upstairs for me. Fruitcake in hand, I shut the door and turned and climbed the stairs. The feel of my form-fitting rubber suit was super-sensuous against my ass.

He was waiting for me as I'd ordered him to, naked and completely defenseless. I licked my lips in anticipation and dropped the fruitcake on the floor. It had been far too long since I'd had a chicken. This was gonna be fun.

"Assistant Director Kersh," he said nervously, his voice quavering in fear. "I'm -- I'm sorry...so sorry..."

"Shut up, Alex!" I commanded. "Shut up and assume the position!" I stepped up behind him as he bent over and grasped his ankles.

The fruitcake could wait.

# # #

I was about to head upstairs when there was a knock at the door. I strode rapidly over to it, my tits bouncing jauntily over the cups of my corselet. I yanked the door open. It was Alex, holding a bundled up flannel nightie.

"It's about time you got here, shithead!" I snapped as I grabbed his t-shirt and yanked him inside and slammed the door.

"I'm sorry," he whined, shifting uncomfortably as I proceeded to rip his clothes from his body. "I was with Kersh, and he wouldn't let me leave." He moaned in pain and pleasure as I grabbed his balls and squeezed them savagely, the way he likes it. "I don't think I'm going to be able to sit down for a week."

"No excuses, Alex!" I raged. "And no whining! You're late, and you're going to have to pay the price." I slapped him on the ass as hard as I could, and he whimpered in pain. "Now get to the bedroom --immediately!"

As he headed for the stairs, feet shuffling and eyes on the ground, I noticed he was still carrying that bundle of flannel. I ran after him and snatched it away just as we stepped into my bedroom.

I raised the flannel nightie to my nose and sniffed it delicately. It smelled like Spender, and inside of it was a...fruitcake? What the fuck?

Which reminded me of the man cowering in front of me. I dropped the bundle on the floor as I looked up at Alex. His eyes were bugged out with fear, and I knew that meant he had noticed the other occupant of the room. She looked hot and sexy in her garter belt and fishnet stockings, and in her hand she held a large vibrator.

"M-marita," Alex stuttered. "You...you didn't tell me SHE would be here!" He huddled back into a corner.

"Shut up, Alex!" I commanded. "Shut up and assume the position!" As he bent over to grasp his ankles I turned to Diana. "Give me that," I said, reaching for the vibrator. "And see if you can find the riding crop. Alex has been a very, very bad boy."

The fruitcake could wait.

# # #

I was NOT about to head for the stairs when there was a knock on the door. Since I was the closest of our happy little group, I answered it. The sounds of moaning and screams of pleasure assaulted my ears and made cock, waving in front of me as I walked, throb with desire.

I pulled the door open and raised my eyebrows in surprise. It was Agent Fowley. She was wearing a trenchcoat, which hung open to reveal damn near nothing under it, other than a garter belt and a pair of fishnet stockings, and in her hands she held a bundled up flannel nightie.

Her eyes widened in shock, and then she glanced over my shoulder and the shock changed to anger. "Walter! You bastard!" she said, and slapped me across the face, which caused a chain reaction ending in my cock spurting hot, sticky jism all over her front. She shoved her bundle of flannel into my hands and pushed past me into the room.

Automatically, I looked down at the package she'd handed me, then held it up to my nose. It smelled like Spender. And as I unwrapped it I realized that it contained....a fruitcake? What the fuck?

Which reminded me of the man standing next to me, but before I could act on that he was kneeling in front of me and taking my cock into his mouth, licking and sucking it like a tootsie pop, and immediately I started to get hard again. Ever since Mulder got his tongue pierced, he's just been incredible.

As my cock reached its full expansion I glanced back over my shoulder, and saw that Agent Fowley was now standing in front of the couch, looking down with lascivious eyes as Agent Scully and Maggie rolled around, kissing and fondling each other's tits. Frohike was right; those two are really hot. As I watched, Fowley picked up a dildo off the end table and started to strap it on, and I just let the bundle of flannel fall to the floor.

The fruitcake could wait.

# # #

I sat in my swivel chair watching the action on the monitor in front of me. Ever since I installed a fiber optic in Maggie's living room, I'd been getting some really hot video, and they'd been selling like hotcakes down at the Mall.

"Frohike!" someone screeched, and I turned and saw Byers getting buggered by Bill, jr, while Susanne Modeski looked on and played with herself. No way, Byers, I thought; you got yourself into this; you're getting yourself out.

My eyes drifted to the other side of the room, where Tara and Langly were doing something with a turkey carcass and a zucchini that did not bear close examination. I loved it.

I brought my attention back to the monitor, just in time to see the lovely Agent Scully start spanking Skinner with a ping pong paddle, while Skinner was going down on Mulder. I couldn't believe how much of Mulder's schlong the A.D. was managing to engulf; we don't call that guy a Redwood among saplings for nothing.

Meanwhile, over in another part of the room Maggie and Agent Fowley were going to beat the band with a large two-headed dildo. And what was that lying there, just barely on the edge of the field of view? Could it be?

My god, it was! A fruitcake, partly concealed by what looked to be Spender's flannel nightie.

A fruitcake!

A fruitcake!

i started to breathe hard as I imagined the things I could do with a fruitcake, and without evening thinking about it I pulled my immense cock out of my jeans and started pumping it. Mulder's not the only Redwood around here, y'know.

A fruitcake. A fruitcake. My eyes started to glaze over just thinking about it.

A fruitcake.

This was going to be a merry Christmas, indeed!

Fini

\--  
"If I heard 'Silent Night' one more time I was going to start taking hostages."  
\--Special Agent Dana Scully, "The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas"

=================

Okay, I succumbed. I've established an online archive of my own X-Files fanfic:  
http://www.avalon.net/~publius/MyStories.html


End file.
